


Close Quarters

by SylvanAuctor



Category: The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells
Genre: Gen, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 15:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16021121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanAuctor/pseuds/SylvanAuctor
Summary: Eden and Art are new students at Confluence University. Inspired by Radchdome.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

            I wrangled the unwieldy moving cart up to my dorm room by myself. I could have had help, but there’s only one thing worse than people trying to make eye contact with me, and that’s people trying to make eye contact with me while trying to remember if I’m the newly adopted foster kid of President Doctor Mensah of Preservation. On top of moving into college, I did not need any more stress. I did the little backwards dance of opening the heavy room door and wiggling the cart through as the door tried to close on it, then made my bed, and set out my few items in my desk and drawers. I replaced the cart with the office downstairs, and returned to my room, already mentally clicking through my saved _Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon_ reruns and picking one out. When I returned, my room was not empty.

There, claiming the other half of the room, was a tall, lanky, sharp person in polo shirt and khaki slacks, being fussed over by a shorter woman with glasses and that general academic look about her that Dr. Mensah and my other PreservationAux parents had. She turned and gave me The Smile. You know the one, that seems to show up on every introverted college student’s parent’s face when they’re determined that _you two will be such good friends._

“Oh hi!” Roommate-Mother said, and waved at me. “You must be Eden. It’s so nice to meet you. Art, say hi.”

“Hello,” Art said, and returned to setting up their desk.

 _Eden, please take of the sunglasses when people are trying to talk to you,_ Dr. Mensah said in my head. I didn’t. I didn’t take down my very comfortable sweatshirt hood, either. I picked a blank spot on the ceiling to look at while we talked.

“You must be Art’s mom,” I said. “Nice to meet you.” I pulled myself up onto my bed and started to look in earnest for an episode of _Sanctuary Moon._

“So what are you studying?” Art’s mom asked.

“Undecided,” I said.

“Oh, well I’m sure you’ll find something. Art’s majoring in physics.”

“Nice.”

“Are you from around here?”

“Not really.”

“Oh. We aren’t either, but the program here is excellent, isn’t it, Art?”

“Yes,” Art said.

“We’re from...” she named some place that I forgot as soon as she said it. “Where are you from?”

“Preservation,” I said. It wasn’t as true as _I lived in a Corporation States orphanage until a month ago_ but no one wants to hear about that. Even people in the Corporation States don’t.

There was a long pause when I thought that Art’s mom had finally given up on conversation before she said, “Do you have any siblings?”

“No.”

“Art’s sister is moving in today too.”

Was that just conversation, or was she trying to set me up with my roommate’s sister? I wasn’t interested. “Oh nice,” I said. I finally put my headphones on and sank into episode 221 of _Sanctuary Moon._

\--- 

I decided after a few episodes that I should do a walk around my class schedule. I could at least start college with a half-assed version of being a good student. I put my big, wide, reflective sunglasses back on (sunglasses, I love you, don’t ever leave me), pulled my hoodie back up around my face, and felt a little bit better about going out and... being observed. Ugh.

Confluence University was a roughly seven-sided campus, not that you could tell from the ground. You could see the aerial view in the app, though, and it was serving me well enough until I walked right into the giant mess of construction that seemed to be taking up a whole seventh part of the campus. _Lee Institute for Ornithology, Zoology and Horticulture is being renovated until further notice; Detour on Fox Ave._ read the sign on one tall wire-mesh fence, beyond which stood a post-apocalypse of gravel piles and strewn demolition debris. There was nothing about this on the app, but following Fox Avenue did get me where I needed to go. I followed my schedule...

 

_Hist. 1101 Intro. Corp. Hist._

_Vendaai, S._

_Elm Bldg. 119_

_Math 1149 Pre-Calc._

_Nirai, F._

_Rose Hall 444_

_Bio. 2203 Intro. Bio._

_Gray, A._

_Q Ave. Library Classroom 221_

_Freshman Seminar_

_MacDonald, A._

_Miller Labs 202_

_Eng. 3011 Intro. Film_

_Crane, S._

_Arts Bldg. 012_

            ...around campus, and found everything without too much trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

            I could have spent my whole college career going to class, doing homework, and then burritoing myself in my blankets with my media, but Dr. Mensah had other plans. She texted me at the end of the first week.

            _Hey Eden! How’s it going? Did you find a club to join?_

We had talked about this. Dr. Mensah was determined to get me to socialize with someone, and I found I didn’t actually want to disappoint her. She had been a good mom for the few weeks that she had been doing that for me. That’s how I actually managed to get out of bed and go to the Murder Mystery Party that my Seminar professor was advertising with little fliers all over campus. The offices of the Political Science department seemed like an odd place for it, but I guess they’re into that here.

 ---

            I was wrong. The Political Science offices are _definitely_ the place for this. They looked like someplace to get lost in and then get actually murdered. Everything was kind of peeling and dingy, with weird stains on the ceiling and lights that flicker in the way that, in media, means that they’re about to go out so the hockey-masked slasher can sneak up and machete the shit out of you. The first piece of art I passed on the way to room 413 was a poster stuck to the wall with clear packing tape, a copy of an oil painting of Naskaaia Eskur being assassinated.

            When I got to room 413, I really started regretting coming. Sure, the walk through the murder hallway made me _start_ regretting it, but at least it wasn’t being in a room absolutely full of people. On top of that, I had somehow missed that this was supposed to be a _costumed_ event. Everybody here was some kind of red-robed wizard or uniformed space marine or something, and there I was with nothing but sunglasses, jeans, and a PreservationAux hoodie. I pulled on the cord to tighten the hood more around my face, and slid as inconspicuously as possible into a seat next to a swamp witch with a twisted silver snake holding up their hair. Once the party officially started and the host started giving out instructions, hopefully this would get marginally better. Until then, I put the _Worldhoppers_ podcast on my big headphones and tried to drown everything out.

            Swamp Witch was working on their computer, which I wouldn’t have noticed except I saw something familiar on the screen, just for an instant. Was that--? I couldn’t help but look. It _was._ Swamp Witch was editing together clips of _Sanctuary Moon_ into something. And--- yessssssssssss!!!!!

            “I thought the ending of Season 3 was horrible,” I said in a rush.

            They turned to me. “What?”

            “I thought that they could have saved the helium mines if TerraSec hadn’t... you know.”

            A smile spread across their face. “I know! Sporocarps, I didn’t know anyone else was still watching it! I’m Hemiola Cold.” They held out a hand to shake.

            “Um...” I said.

            “Oh, sorry, you don’t have to shake my hand. What’s your name?”

            “Eden,” I said. “You know, from _Sanctuary Moon._ ”

            “That’s awesome.”

            “What are you making?”

            “Oh, it’s... It’s not quite finished yet. But my channel is _tefosenclave_ if you want to follow me and see my other stuff.”

            I watched a few of their videos right there. Not any of the shipping ones where they edited clips of their OTPs into their preferred... configurations, but the interesting ones where they gave the bot characters way more spotlight than they ever got in canon. When Angus Macdonald started calling the group to order, I was about to ask Hemiola if they wanted to leave and talk about _Sanctuary Moon_ somewhere less loud, but they seemed actually interested in being here.

            “Good evening, sirs and madams and citizens,” Angus said. “We’re going to pass out your character sheets now. Keep them secret! Once you have yours, you’re free to begin solving the mystery! Professor Zehun and I have put clues and snacks all over the building, but please don’t open any locked doors. That is all! Have fun, and the more eyes the better!”

            I opened my envelope and pulled out a piece of paper covered in purple calligraphy. My eye went right to the first line: _You are the murderer._

Shit.

            I pulled the paper close to my face and looked away from Hemiola to try to conceal my facial expression. I looked back after a few seconds, when I was fairly sure that the look of pure terror had passed. “So what’s your character?” I asked.


End file.
